Sahnede: Luxus
Zaman: 9 Ekim 2010 Cumartesi
Mekan: Haymatlos - Beyoğlu - İstanbul
Fiyat: Tam:15
Bilet: Kapı Girişi
LUXUS; hayattan bunalmanın alternatifi değil, o bunalımın ta kendisidir.
Gazetelerdeki asık suratlıların ve kokusunu yaydıkları politik mendeburluğun yüzüne çizilmiş bıyıktır.
Saptığı sokak ve çıkaracağı seslerle ilgili; taze ve anlık oluşları dışında hiçbirşeyi vaat etmeyen, yolcu kapasitesi oldukça geniş bir cadı süpürgesidir.
Ve dil çıkarttıkça gördük ki;
......
LUXUS; her seferinde başka renklerde ışık yayan 7 kişiden mürekkep bir şiirli lambadır.
Boynunuzdaki kravatın yasaklanmış göbek atma isteğidir.
Çaresizliğin kıçında patlayan siyah deriden dede terliğidir.
Terli terli su içmenin yegane bahanesidir.
Elinizde patlama ihtimali oldukça yüksek bir sıhhatli bombadır... Şudur, budur.
*Life is already filled with the most irrational evidences about "something strange happens to us". All we do, is to have a look at these out of the corner of our eyes and smile slyly. We have chosen to do is because we really got bored by the glances which pace the floor with the most pathetic eyes. So, instead of some dark and pessimistic arguments which loose their points as they're repeated over and over, as an alternative attitude, we dediced to confront the naffnes of life by turning somersaults and sticking out tongues!
And as we turned a somersault, we realized that;
LUXUS is not an alternative for (getting bored with) life, it 'is' (getting bored with) the life ! The very itself.
LUXUS is the moustache, drawn on the newspapers, right on the faces of sulky ones and the political misery they reek of.
It is a witch's broom with its really large passenger capacity, promising nothing about the sound it'll make, and the course it'll set, nothing but being fresh and momentary!
And as we stick our tongues out, we witnessed that;
LUXUS is a poe'm'agical lamp which composed of seven people, sparkling with a different color each time.
It is the forbidden wish of the tie around your neck, for performing a belly dance in the middle of the madding crowd.
It is a good-old grandpa slipper that smacks right in the ass of the desperation.
It is the only excuse you have, for drinking cold water when you're sweaty.
It is a (good) time(S) bomb which has a high posibbility to explode in your hands.
Stuff like that.
